CONTENT: dom/sub elements, object insertion, erotic humiliation, light petplay (cat). Rated NC-17.

"I thought you agreed you weren't going to use your Animagus form to mess about and annoy people any more."

"It was a joke," Draco said sullenly. "It's not my fault Weasley's a whiny little bitch."

"Was that a dog crack? Because I distinctly remember you promising to stop that, too."

"He kept making cat jokes until Granger made him stop."

"But he did stop, because I asked him to and because Hermione asked him to, and he loves her."

"Pussy whipped," Draco muttered. Harry's eyes flashed and Draco winced a bit. He and Harry had been together two years, and still he couldn't break himself of the habit of running his mouth, riling Harry up.

"I really wouldn't use that term if I were you, Draco," Harry said. His jaw clenched.

"You're right," Draco said. He gave Harry the big, sad eyes that had always made his mother melt and give him chocolates instead of bed without supper. "I didn't mean that."

Harry's black brows drew together above those bright green eyes Draco loved. "Draco, you know I know what you're doing. You're giving me the big sad eyes so I won't be annoyed that you messed with Ron during Auror training time. Why do you still do it?"

Draco gave him a sweet smile. "Because it works."

Harry gave a little snort of irritation. Draco kept smiling, confident in the knowledge that it was true. Harry might be wise to Draco's sad expressions, but he fell for them every time.

"You are a very bad kitty."

Anticipation shivered through Draco's chest. The words, and the tone, and the way Harry was closer now, close enough that Draco could catch his scent, and staring at him with that intensity that meant he wasn't seeing anything else…

"Let's go to the bedroom."

Draco nodded. He wasn't sure he could speak evenly, so he didn't try.

Their bedroom was small - Harry had some weird thing about paying half the rent, and he was an Auror trainee, after all - but that wasn't all bad: Draco entered the bedroom and Harry shut the door behind them, staring from three feet away with green-eyed intensity.


Draco blinked.

"Strip," Harry told him. "I want a good view."

"Oh," Draco said. "So I'm to pay for my sins via sex, then?"

"And a few other things," said Harry mildly.

Draco slid out of his clothes under Harry's eyes. He felt himself flush a little; Harry had seen him naked hundreds of times, but to have him stand quite still and leer, taking in Draco's body as it was bared to him, without removing so much as a shoe – it was embarrassing. But embarrassing in the way that made Draco's cock twitch.

Draco unbuttoned his trousers, toed out of his socks, all while Harry's eyes stroked up and down his body, drinking him in. Draco blushed more. Harry's eyes slid up to his face; when they met Draco's, Harry's expression relaxed into a filthy grin.

Harry went to his bedside table - Draco wasn't allowed to touch it - and pulled something from the top drawer: a familiar pink collar.

Draco rolled his eyes at Harry, trying to ignore the tension quivering through him at the sight of it. "Again?"

"It's been a while," Harry said. "But if you find it boring - " He drew his wand and tapped the collar with a murmured spell. The collar sprouted a small, jingling silver bell. Draco's eyes widened.

"Now I'll always know where you are," said Harry.

"But – come on, Harry, a fucking Ibell/i - I didn't bother Weasley that much – "

"I disagree," said Harry. Draco scowled. Then he felt Harry's hands at his throat. He felt Harry pull the buckle tight, and close the collar round his neck, and he felt the soft leather encircling the base of his throat, the leather that meant Harry owned him, and he went liquid inside.

Harry could tell; he smiled, close and secret, as he clipped the leash onto the collar. Harry kept his hand wound in the leash, close to Draco's throat, holding them close enough to kiss. Draco stared at Harry; the mingled sound of their breath as it got faster was the only sound. Draco couldn't speak. The collar wasn't too tight, it didn't hurt at all: Harry knew which hole was the right one, and he was always careful with Draco. But he couldn't speak.

Harry reeled him in for a kiss.

Draco kissed Harry fervently, drinking in the quiet heat of it, his hands sliding up Harry's arms to his broad shoulders. Draco made a faintly miffed sound into Harry's mouth: Harry was still wearing his t-shirt, still wearing everything, Draco wanted skin. Harry only pulled him closer, so that Draco could feel Harry's clothed body against his own naked one. Could feel Harry's left hand exploring his skin even as Harry's right hand held him close by his leash, unable to escape.

Draco's body melted against Harry's. Harry clutched him harder, then drew back. Harry was flushed, almost bleary-eyed. "Wow," he murmured. "I forgot how much you like the leash."

Draco glared; Harry wasn't meant to bring that up. He moved back, only to be brought up short by Harry's grip on his leash.

A slow-burning little smile appeared on Harry's face.

"Lie on the bed."

Harry didn't let go of the leash as Draco obeyed, merely letting it out by a foot or two. It was a long leash, meant for a large dog – though as pink as the collar – so there could be plenty of slack without Draco escaping Harry's pull.

The collar jingled with every movement as Draco moved to lie on the bed – on his back, at Harry's gesture. The little sound mortified him, not least because it meant that Harry knew exactly how much Draco enjoyed the smooth secrecy of his cat form.

Harry looped the leash twice round a bedpost. There was plenty of slack still, but only if Draco stayed on the bed.

"Hands and knees."

Flushing, Draco obeyed. Harry made an appreciative noise, sliding his hand from the small of Draco's back down over his arse, palming the curve of it. "Fucking gorgeous. Now spread your legs, kitty, show me what you've got."

Fuck. Draco ducked his head as he did so, making the collar jingle. He stared down at the pillow, feeling Harry's warm hands smooth over his arse, squeezing and rubbing, dipping between his cheeks before slipping away again. He opened his thighs further, hoping he could tempt Harry to touch his cock.

Harry simply pinched his arse, hard. Draco snapped, "Harry!"

"Were you wanting me to do something?" Harry asked, rich amusement colouring his tone. "Then you're going to have to ask."

"Touch me."

"I am touching you." Harry squeezed his arse appreciatively to emphasise this.

The cool air of the bedroom was a torment now. Draco was aching. He squirmed, pushing his arse up, trying to make Harry's hands go where he wanted them. To make him stroke Draco's cock or fuck his arse.

"Draco, if you want something here – " A finger brushed over his rim, teasing without satisfying – "you'll have to say so."

Draco bristled. And Harry just kept stroking his arse. Draco was squirming, shifting, pressing into his hands without meaning to. Harry would give in, with enough time, Draco was sure.

But not before Draco did. Having Harry touch him so proprietorially, knowing Harry was looking at his hanging balls, his – Draco felt heat prickle his cheeks. "I want it. I do."

"What's the magic word?"

Draco hated that Muggle phrase. "Please, Harry, please do it, please – "

Two lubed fingers slid into his hole. Draco moaned at the relief of it, of pressure and touch where he needed it. He heard Harry groan too as he stroked Draco inside. Harry did it slow and sweet and relentless, stroking over his prostate and fingering him until Draco was moaning constantly, a sea of little sounds. Harry had moved; he was balancing on hands and knees too, leaning over Draco, moaning into Draco's ear as he played with Draco's arse. His hot body caged Draco's. Draco turned his head. It was awkward, but they found each other's mouths. Kissing open-mouthed, pushing back onto Harry's fingers as they fucked him and rubbed him and sent quivering shocks of pleasure all through him –

Then Harry stopped. He drew back, he removed his fingers, he stood up and cleaned his fingers with a spell. Draco was outraged. "What are you doing? Why did you stop?"

"You'll see."

"Don't Iyou'll see/i me, not when – " When he was prepared and open, his hole slick and ready and achingly empty.

"Stop complaining," Harry said. His hair was damp with sweat, his cock bulging from the front of the jeans he was still wearing, but his voice was quiet.

Draco went quiet, his legs still spread, the cool air of the bedroom a torment as it brushed over his heated flesh. His cock was dripping onto the duvet, he needed it so much. But he didn't speak, and he blushed a little at his own obedience. Why did this still embarrass him?

Harry stroked Draco's hair. "That's good, nice and quiet. That's a good start."

A good Istart/i? Draco eyed Harry warily. He'd opened the bedside table's top drawer again.

"I've been thinking about this all afternoon. Ron told me at lunch, told me all about your little jokes, and tonight you're going to learn to be a very good kitty instead of a bad, naughty one."

Draco nodded, feeling his heart speed up. He felt the collar round his neck with each breath. "I'll be good," he said. He was already imagining Harry fucking him, Harry making him beg to come –

"I know you will." Harry smiled at him, came closer, gave him a kiss. His fingertips pressed gently against Draco's hot cheek; Draco could smell his musk. Then it was gone, and Draco opened his eyes to see Harry take a plug from the top drawer.

His breaths tripped. "It's so big," he said. "It's too big – " Mingled trepidation and desire squirmed in his stomach. This was why Harry had spent so long preparing him, so he could take this –

"You can. You will." Harry's voice was rough from lust, but his words were simple and certain.

Then he tapped the plug once with his wand, and the flanged end grew a tail: a white, fluffy cat's tail.

"Harry," Draco protested. His voice had gone funny. "You want me to – you're going to – "

"Yes," said Harry. "You're a good pussycat, aren't you Draco? I just want to make sure I can see it."

Embarrassment flooded him. Draco swallowed. "It looks really big, and – "

"I'm going to get my kitty all kitted out, and then we'll take a little walk around the flat." Harry's throat worked a little. The hair at his temples and neck was matted with sweat.

"I – "

"Unless you'd rather have an early night and a bowl of soup?"

It was gently teasing, but it was also a reminder: Draco's safeword was 'tureen'. Harry's way of reminding Draco that this could be over any time he liked.

Draco looked back down at the pillow, even more embarrassed; because he wasn't going to use it, of course he wasn't, with Harry standing there ready to make him take the wide, thick plug and be Harry's pet.

Harry returned to the bed. "Open up, then," Harry said softly, almost crooning. "More. More, Draco, show me. Show me your hole – ah, that's it. So open."

Draco's thighs burned. He shut his eyes, lust and humiliation licking at his insides; he could feel Harry staring at his most intimate places, and then –

A hand on his arse, and the thick head of the plug nudging against his rim, reigniting the nerves. Harry teased him with it: letting Draco feel it, its threatening width and weight against him, its cool plastic. Draco moaned, unable to hold the sounds back, little yearning noises.

Harry began to slide the plug in, stroking it up inside him, forcing Draco's body to adjust for it, to yield for it. Draco groaned. The fingers of Harry's other hand were tightening painfully. Draco glanced back to see Harry staring as he watched himself push the plug in.

It was heady, filling him up, filling all that empty aching space. And it was so thick – fuck – Draco panted through his teeth, feeling the stretch as it shaded into pain. Harry murmured to him – "relax, Draco, relax, you can do it – " and his voice was gentle, but he didn't stop. He kept slowly pushing the plug inside, forcing Draco open.

And then the flanged end of the plug slid into place, and Draco felt his hole tighten round its base. "There you are." Harry's deep voice was deliciously rough; he sounded punch-drunk with lust. "There you are, it's in."

Draco closed his legs a little, now his arse didn't need to be spread. Even that small movement forced a shocked little exhale between his lips as he felt his body shift around the plug.

"How does it feel?" Harry's hand was stroking obsessively over his arse cheeks, and it was almost too much. Draco's arse clenched as desire thumped through him, and he exhaled again. Not quite a gasp, but – this plug was so big, keeping him full and open and fucked, and –

"How does it feel?" Harry came off the bed and round so he could see Draco's face. "Draco?"

Draco swallowed, trying to take in all the sensations; the thick, long thing inside him, forcing him open every moment; the tail teasing fuzzily against the inside of his arse cheeks and his thighs; the collar round his neck. And now Harry's fingers gently rubbing against his cock, Harry's bright eyes watching him. Draco made a soft, stomachpunched noise, then managed to find his voice.

"I don't know. Er, not bad..."

Harry's eyes were intent. He kept touching Draco's cock, rubbing up his shaft, and Draco shut his eyes, overcome.

When he opened them, the uncertainty was gone from Harry's eyes; but he looked just as intent.

"Good." Harry untied the leash from the bedpost and stood up, gently tugging it. Draco followed the pull, sliding slowly off the bed to stand in front of Harry. Sensation shivered through him with each movement as his muscles moved around the plug.

"Come on," Harry scolded gently, stroking his face. His thumb dragged gently across Draco's bottom lip, tempting Draco to bite it. He resisted: he was being good tonight. "Do cats stand upright?"

Wordless, Draco shook his head.

He needed Harry's help to get to his knees. He clung to Harry's forearms as he lowered himself. He felt the plug inside him every moment, and the tail – it shouldn't make a difference, but he felt like he was about to lose his balance. But Harry helped him down until his knees hit the floor.

Then Harry stood, his shadow covering Draco. Draco felt helpless, staring up at him. He wasn't – there was nothing to stop him removing the collar, or getting his wand, or just leaving – but – he couldn't.

"One last touch..." Harry picked up his wand and cast a spell Draco didn't recognise. Draco's ears tingled, and he felt the weird, painless crunch as they changed. They slid up his head; he touched them, found them pointed and lightly furred. Cat's ears. It was nothing like when he changed into his Animagus form; this was Harry changing Draco's body to suit himself, and it made his cock throb.

Harry rubbed behind Draco's new ears, and Draco slumped a little, groaning, boneless with pleasure. It was bliss. His eyelids drooped, but he could still see Harry watching him greedily. Harry was red-cheeked himself, sweaty, his t-shirt almost sticking to him. But he was still fully clothed.

Draco thought he knew why, now. Pets went naked. People wore clothes.

The thought made him shiver and clench round the plug.

Harry took hold of Draco's limp leash and tugged it. "All right. Let's go." He walked off slowly, giving Draco time to bring himself onto hands and knees – the tail seemed to stick out so far – and start to crawl.

Harry stopped short immediately. "Uh uh uh, keep that tail perked."

Mortified, Draco pushed his arse up and kept moving. The tail was a soft, fluffy irritation against the inside of his arse cheeks, not to mention where it hung down against his arse and the back of his thighs; a constant, humiliating reminder. It was nothing like when Draco was in his Animagus form. That tail was a part of him, a natural extension of his spine; he held it straight without thinking. This was the end of an invader pushed inside him, keeping his arse open and stretched at Harry's convenience, a tail sticking ridiculously into the air. Punishment. Fuck, if Weasley could see him now, he'd piss himself laughing.

But Harry was the only one who could see him. Draco craned his neck and saw Harry's face: sucker-punched with lust, his cheeks almost as red as Draco's as he watched Draco crawl, his arse raised and tail waving.

They went towards the kitchen. It was slow going. The plug rubbed against his insides with every movement, shifting and teasing. It forced Draco to be aware of it every moment. Pleasure thrummed through him as he crawled forward, even as he was humiliated; he was fucked every second.

Draco's collar jingled as he crawled, inescapably. Harry began tugging at the leash – just a little. Not to speed Draco up, but to make the bell jingle. He liked the noise. Draco hated it and loved it; he wasn't a silent, lithe predator any more, but a housecat, a pet, and he heard that status in every tiny ring of the bell on his collar. His cock was heavy and aching, bobbing as he crawled, and that humiliated him too.

The only thing hotter and stronger than the humiliation scorching him was the lust. The humiliation fed his desire, both of them burning through him as he felt Harry gazing at him, naked and collared and crawling. Harry was gentle with the leash as always, but Draco was excruciatingly aware that Harry chose where he was going and how fast he went.

Harry's other hand was at his own crotch, rubbing slowly, endlessly. The sound of Harry's hand rubbing against the rough material of his jeans sent Draco salivating. As they went over the threshold into the kitchen, he realised that he'd been moving his tongue in his mouth, unconsciously mimicking the movements of a blowjob.

He wondered if Harry could tell.

The tile was cold and hard on his hands and knees, if thankfully very clean. Draco sucked in a breath in reaction and slowed even more. Harry landed a gentle slap on his bare arse, near the base of the plug. "Hurry up."

Even that gentle slap made Draco clench round the plug, and desire spiralled through him. "Abusing your kitty, are you?" he said, finding his voice. "You're not meant to hit your pussycat." He grinned impishly up.

Harry frowned. Draco frowned back: what was wrong?

Harry sighed at him. "Sit back on your heels."

Draco did, flinching a little as the plug was pushed deeper. He stared up at Harry as Harry silently Summoned something.

It flew into Harry's hand like the Snitch: a pink ballgag. Draco reared back, shaking his head. "No – "

"Pets don't talk," Harry said firmly. "If you can't be a good kitty, I'll help you."

He slid his hand into Draco's sweaty hair, cupping his hand behind Draco's head. "Safeword is two taps. Yes?"

"Yes," Draco said, a quivering exhale of a word, and Harry gently forced his head forward.

Draco opened his mouth and shut his eyes.

Harry buckled the gag in, forcing his mouth into a permanent, surprised little o. He made a little face at the taste of plastic, and opened his eyes to see Harry's amused face.

Draco dropped his eyes. He couldn't speak now if he wanted to; he'd just have to paw at Harry's leg. He really was Harry's pet now.

Fuck, he wanted to come.

"That's better. If you're good, I'll take it out and you'll get something nice later."

Harry tugged on his leash again. Draco followed obediently, feeling drool start to wet his face. Harry tapped his hip, reminding him, and Draco perked his arse again.

They went into the sitting room with Draco moving very carefully. His cock was painfully hard, and his arse clenched and ached round the plug, and the tail teased at his thighs; trying to keep it all from overwhelming him was hard.

And then Harry decided to make it even more difficult. He finally stripped, t-shirt and socks and jeans all falling to the carpet in a little heap. His boxers were still on, and damp from his hard cock. Naked was for pets.

The coarse black hair on his thighs, the bulge of his hard cock, the muscle in his bare shoulders and chest... Draco's fingers clenched in the carpet.

Harry took back the leash, tugging Draco forward. Harry flopped onto the sofa, and Draco came along the length of his leash, trying to climb up with Harry.

"No pets on the furniture," Harry said, and pushed him down with a jingle of his bell. Harry chucked him under the chin as Draco's cheeks burned.

Harry let go of the leash in favour of coddling Draco: smoothing his hair, rubbing behind his ears, stroking his face. Draco pushed into it, shameless. He wanted to resent it, but it felt so wonderful to have Harry stroke him and make much of him. It always did when he was a real cat, and this was even better. It sent chills down his back as Harry stroked his ears and hair. And Harry was deciding everything tonight, so it wasn't Draco's fault. It was what Harry liked.

His eyelids drooped, then shut in bliss. He clenched rhythmically round the plug, wanting to be fucked. But he could wait, it was so soft and kind and –

Harry gave his left nipple a slow, vicious pinch. Draco's eyes popped open. His nipples were hard from the slight chill of the flat. Harry gently scratched at his nipple, using his thumbnail to send little shivers of desire through Draco. Harry's mouth was twisted into a half-conscious snarl as he gave Draco another twisting pinch. Draco yelped through the gag, drool slipping down his face. The plug was pushing relentlessly against his insides, sliding and rubbing against his prostate, and Harry's hand stroking behind his ears and Harry's hand twisting his nipples in turn, making him shudder with pleasure-pain. His collar jingled as he squirmed under Harry's gentle assault, not knowing how to move, how to escape or escalate the sensations devastating him. He began to pump his cock, losing the battle not to touch; Harry slapped his hands away, then gave him a light, almost condescending slap in the face.

Draco whined into his gag, staring at Harry pleadingly. He wanted to come, oh please, he wanted to come.

Harry knew what the look meant. He removed the gag.

Draco didn't speak. He just whined piteously: please please I want it.

"Very good kitty," Harry told him, and Draco was a little embarrassed by how it lit up his insides. "All right, you can have some water."

Some – what?

Harry Summoned a bowl of water. He must have had it waiting, Draco realised, as it sailed through the door. It was a cat's water bowl – a bit bigger than normal but unmistakable, and as pink as his collar and leash. It set itself down gently in the corner without spilling a drop.

Draco looked back at Harry, and he gestured at the water. "You must be thirsty."

He was. And fuck, he was so humiliated. Harry was going to teach him good and proper tonight. It burnt through him as he crawled to the corner with Harry watching him. A cluck reminded him to raise his arse, to keep his tail perky. Draco was facing the water bowl, away from Harry, but he recognised the slick sounds and the way Harry's breathing speeded and deepened. He was wanking.

Draco lowered his chest to the floor to get at the water, his arse raised still higher, his tail in the air. He could feel Harry drinking in the sight he made. He wasn't sure he'd ever felt so exposed.

He tried lapping at the water. He was bad at it; water went everywhere but he managed to get some. He heard Harry's footsteps as he walked behind Draco. Draco kept lapping, waiting to see what Harry would do with him now.

"You're so pretty," Harry murmured. "My good pretty kitty." Harry knelt behind him. Draco stopped lapping but stayed frozen where he was, carpet brushing against his nipples, arse raised and vulnerable and stuffed.

Harry's hand began gently stroking Draco's arse. "I'm so fucking gone for your arse, it's ridiculous. But it's so perfect, all round and pale and nice and ready for me."

Draco groaned a little: yes, I'm open, I'm ready for you, for you to –

Harry's hand slid down, and Draco spread his legs further, helpless and instinctive. All he could see was the pink of his bowl and the floor. He spread his thighs further, groaning, as Harry's hand slid between his legs. Harry gently rolled and stroked his balls, and for one sweet second they tightened before Draco managed to stop himself. Harry must have felt it. He kept stroking, teasing featherlight fingertips up Draco's shaft, but he didn't touch the head.

Draco groaned, loud and helpless, as Harry's hand explored and enjoyed what he had between his legs. The thick plug held him open as he tightened and relaxed around it. Harry moved a little further forward and Draco realised he was naked, Harry's gorgeous thick cock was bare and brushing against him. Draco was moaning again, he couldn't stop, and Harry's other hand pulled his tail. The plug pushed against his prostate and he almost shrieked. Harry took hold of the base of the plug, his warm hand against Draco's arse, and began working it, fucking Draco with it, the thick shaft sending shockwaves through him. His thighs trembled and he almost sobbed.

Harry must have heard it in his voice, sensed it: that Draco was about to be pushed too far. Because then there were slick sounds, and Harry saying, "just relax, kitty, just relax." The plug slid out, a smooth rush of pleasure at it moved, and then he was so gapingly open that Draco almost sobbed, though it was a relief not to be held wide open by silicone any more. Then Harry's cock slid in, warm and familiar and thick, and he groaned in relief and pleasure.

It was fast; after all the build-up it could hardly be anything else. Harry folded his body over Draco's, warm and close and intimate and keeping him down against the floor. Harry's hips were pumping, his hips thumping against Draco's arse with every thrust, the slick sounds of Harry using him filling Draco's ears. Then Harry's hand closed round his cock, pumping him, and Draco's thighs quivered. His fingers were clenched in the carpet. Harry was mumbling into Draco's ear – so good, so good Draco, can't believe how hot you are, so good, come on Draco, give it up for me, come on kitty –

Draco's body tightened and arched and came in a long hot torrent, pleasure rushing and blinding and racking him; he was blind and deaf as it finally, finally had its way with him. Draco sobbed for breath through it, shattered. The waves of pleasure died down but kept working their way through him as Harry fucked him, fast and hard and pounding, until Harry found his pleasure of Draco and came inside him, still thumping into him as he yelled.

It wasn't until a few minutes later, as they tembled together like exhausted horses, that Draco realised his throat was sore; he'd been screaming.

Ten minutes after that, Harry managed to peel himself off the carpet, and brought up Draco after him. Draco was nearly limp. "Come on," Harry murmured. They staggered for the bedroom together. Then a spell, and Draco felt his ears turn human again. "Come on, bed – "

"I thought pets weren't allowed on the furniture," Draco mumbled back, in a brave attempt at his usual drawl.

Harry's wicked chuckle made Draco's knees go funny. Harry pulled them to the mattress together, in a painful, knocking mass of bare skin. They squirmed into a good position together, wriggling and close as a young litter.

"Only if they've been very, very good."